THE LAST SONG OF DUSK

In his first novel, Bombay-born Shanghvi carves a magic realism–tinged niche for himself between Salman Rushdie and Arundhati Roy. In colonial India in the 1920s, Anuradha, a beautiful young bride, leaves her home in Udaipur and travels to Bombay to marry a man she has never met, the equally beautiful doctor, Vardhmaan. Shanghvi's India is an elegant, epicurean place: on the day of her departure Anuradha is serenaded by "an ostentation of peacocks that, just as the Marwar Express snorted its way out of Udaipur, unleashed their rain-beckoning cries of Megh-awuu, Megh-awuu.... " The couple settles into Vardhmaan's familial home, and as beautiful people tend to, they have a stunning child, Mohan. This is all, of course, the setup for a fall; Mohan dies, and Anuradha and Vardhmaan descend into sadness and longing. The gloom lifts briefly when Anuradha goes away to Udaipur and brings back a 14-year-old orphan, Nandini, who sparks riots with her lascivious attire—the "mini sari"—and emerges as a national figure so important that even Gandhi asks to meet her. Anuradha and Vardhmaan, however, never quite recover from their loss, even when a new son, Shloka, is born. While not exactly purple, Shanghvi's prose can be a bit mauve: a simple necktie becomes "a dignified sartorial adjunct." Still, this is a sensual, delectable debut. Agent, Kim Witherspoon. West Coast author tour. (Oct.)